


Those Amber Days

by WL_Erkling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Marauders, Moony - Freeform, Padfoot - Freeform, Prongs - Freeform, Wormtail - Freeform, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10191929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WL_Erkling/pseuds/WL_Erkling
Summary: Remus is waiting, always waiting for the moon to take him, destroy him. Can Sirius save him?





	

Disclaimer: Characters, settings, and themes from the Harry Potter universe are property of J.K Rowling. I neither own, nor am making profit from the writing or sharing of this story.

 

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Fingers ran along the back of his neck, digging in where the ache never left. He rolled his head in a slow circle, feeling the pull in his back, allowing his eyes to flutter for a moment before they opened to look out the window. Deep amber glinted beneath the soft light coming through the cracks of the window. Each time he passed beneath the shimmering streak of moonlight which cut the room in half, sneaking between the remnants of wood and glass, he shuddered. It was heavy on his skin, tugging and pulling, laying soft hands that said Come.

Several times, Remus tried to settle amongst the tattered blankets that lay in the corner of the room. He picked them up, rearranged them, and neatly laid them back down. His fingers ached as they stretched the fabric, clutching it to his breast. When he sat on the hard floor, rolling one battered hand around in the other, he focused on his breathing. Breathing was difficult.

He never knew when it would happen. That was another gift of his curse. Between studying the particularities of astronomy—namely sunrises and sunsets—he could often tell to the second when the moon would be at its peak. This did not always coincide with his change, however; often other meteorological events would get in the way. Remus remembered fondly the full moon when a blizzard obscured the sky for hours and his change didn’t happen until going on midnight. He’d had a reprieve that night, but tonight he was not so fortunate.

The skies were clear and he’d nothing to hide behind but flimsy walls and trust in a man whom he felt had not quite earned it. Remus sighed and wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the edge of scars he tried to forget. He couldn’t. As the full moon drew nearer each month, they would itch and grow uncomfortable and he’d taken to (poorly) brewing his own anti-itching potion in the dormitory. The others said it left a foul odor in the room for days, but he made enough to last the term.

He could feel it. There was a subtle depth to the world. Everything bounced back as if it were been thrown away from him and brought back trifold—a sort of werewolf echolocation. His inner ear throbbed with the density of sounds human ears should never encounter, so he flexed his jaw, rubbed just below the lobe. It was when his vision began to shift--blur and sharpen rapidly between blinks—that Remus heard the scuffling of nervous feet; the uneven breath of someone trying not to breathe too fast, but convince himself that any sort of breathing was okay, too.

Remus looked toward the door, having shoved himself as far in the corner as possible. When it opened, he grappled against the wall for anything to restrain himself, desperately looking toward the climbing moon.

His panic was obvious when his voice cracked. “Sirius, what are you-”

“Okay, Moony,” Sirius started. “Don’t panic.”

“Excuse me? I’m not the one that smells like pure fucking adrenaline and a hint of urine, Sirius!”

Sirius winced at the reference, but took a deep breath and stepped into the room, hands raised and palms out. “Moony, please don’t be angry.” He whimpered as Remus growled, amber eyes starting to phase gold. “Okay, I know I need to talk fast. Fuck. Look, we—”

“We? Who the hell else is out there?”

“Focus, Moony.” Sirius snapped his fingers, waving at his face when Remus tried to look behind him. “Explanations first. Arse-chewing later. We decided it would be easier on you if you had someone here with you during your changes.”

The growling intensified and Sirius stepped back. “And YOU of all people volunteered? Sirius fucking Black put himself before someone else?”

He took a moment to drop his hands, rubbed them against his trousers. The hurt on his face was obvious. “Look. We thought it would help you not hurt yourself so much, okay?”

“You can’t be here.” Remus began panting, his shoulders swaying slightly against the wall.

“Moony?”

There was a loud crack as Remus’ arm jerked out to the side, his wrist slammed into the wood. Sirius moved to help him, but was met with a growl and snapping jaw.

“Okay, fuck, mate. I was hoping I’d have more time. First time under pressure and all.” Remus’ eyes were no longer his own. Pure gold stared back at Sirius and he shivered.

Sirius focused. He’d practiced with James and Peter so much over the last few years he could do the meditation in his sleep. He closed his eyes, heard another sickening thud from across the room, and began to change.

“What the--”

Remus watched the last bit of human flesh slip beneath black fur. He stared in mesmerized silence as the shaggy coat rippled into place. He barked a laugh when the dog cocked his head, lolling his tongue out to the side.

“What the fuck have you done, Sirius?”

Sirius barked, dropping his head low. Remus didn’t have time to answer as the moon peeked out from behind the clouds. A quick look was all the time he had before it started again. The pain wracked his body, causing all sorts of disfigurations, dislocations, and disembowelments. Sirius whined softly as Remus’ internal organs were partly visible until his fur became a scab spreading rapidly over the wounds he’d incurred.

Remus began trying to pull the flesh from himself, to bite at the bones that wouldn’t quite set into place. Sirius jumped forward and barked loudly at him. The mongrel of a half-wolf spun, dragging human flesh and bleeding profusely. Sirius whined, but continued to nip and bark. When the wolf’s bones snapped into place, he fell to the ground.

It took him a while to settle into the wolf’s body, his mind. It always unsettled them both. Sirius lay flat on his belly, his tail curled round his rump. His ears lay back against his head and he waited. Wide eyes scanned the body before him, scenting the air for danger-attack-flee, but nothing moved.

When Moony did sit up, Sirius wasn’t sure how to react. The canine side of him wanted to bound forward and sniff-lick-greet, but something told him to wait. Whether it was instincts or the (rarely present) rational side of Sirius, he lay still while the wolf climbed to its feet, shaking out its fur. Moony was a lovely auburn, flecked with dark grey and black. Perhaps the most recognizable part of him were the gold eyes. Sirius would know those anywhere.

When the wolf tilted its head, sniffing once-twice, then snapping its gaze to Sirius, he whined softly, thumping his shaggy tail. Moony lunged and Sirius rose, backing away. His face was down toward the floor, but this was not enough. The wolf needed more; it needed complete submission, and Sirius wasn’t offering. As he stalked closer, Sirius cowed down on his elbows and Moony snapped at the simpering dog. He placed his jaws around Sirius’ throat, closing just enough for Sirius to feel the weight of his teeth and the heat of his breath before letting go.

Sirius’ eyes opened and his tail thumped against the wall. His paws scrabbled several times in place before he had enough purchase on the wooden floors to circle the wolf, sniffing and nosing and even attempting a furtive lick. Moony put an end to the licking quickly, but Sirius was too happy to care.

When Moony stopped, caught the scents of something else—something not wolf-not dog—Sirius was barely able to stop him from leaving the room in time. He barked three times quickly and the scents changed. They morphed into something wholly new, something Moony was more comfortable with, but were new to Remus.

Sirius continued wagging his tail, but when an antler poked around the doorway, he nudged Moony’s shoulder backward toward the wall. Moony didn’t want to move. He wanted to hunt-kill-eat. Sirius yipped at him, pinching the skin at his flank and Moony took a swipe at his hip. Sirius ended up with a small puncture which he limped away from, licking the wound awkwardly.

He barked a caution to the stag, who was currently trying to manipulate his antlers through the doorway unsuccessfully. The stag let out a graceless snort, turning his head completely to the side in order to enter. He didn’t take into account the rat riding his crown who was unceremoniously dumped to the floor.

Moony lunged again, but Sirius was between them. Sirius waited until Moony seemed more confused than eager and turned to look at the newcomers. Approaching the stag, Moony watched as the dog’s demeanor changed. He went from wary and nervous to relaxed and playful. A great, long lick landed on the stag’s cheek and it pawed at the ground, butting Sirius away with its antlers. Sirius was wagging his tail, so Moony watched. The little creature approached him and Sirius repeated the gesture, nearly picking it up. It squeaked and made a fuss. Sirius barked and spun in a circle. He then returned back to Moony and attempted the licking gesture with him.

Moony stepped backward, a low growl rumbling through the room. The rat ran up the stag’s proffered leg and perched atop its crown. Sirius waited briefly. Once he saw Moony wasn’t attacking him, he moved forward again. When he was within nose-distance of the wolf, Sirius snuck in a quick lick. Moony didn’t react. Instead, his eyes were on the others across the room.

The stag had made itself comfortable by dragging a blanket from the corner and spreading it out. He tucked his knees and hocks beneath him and lay atop it. The rat hadn’t moved. Moony watched its beady little eyes dart from large creature to large creature and couldn’t make any sense of it. Sirius had to hope that Remus was in there somewhere, wondering at the odd number, the odd grouping, and Sirius’ odd behavior. He was fervently hoping Remus had put it all together.

Then—Moony relaxed. He walked around Sirius and nipped gently at his rump. They began this odd sort of chase in the small room. Sirius would run to the corner and tuck down in front, wiggling from ears to tail. Moony would take three strides toward him, sometimes cornering him, sometimes not. More often than not Sirius would end up pinned beneath Moony’s paws and he’d bark to be released. To Sirius, it all seemed like great fun.

As evening bled into morning, Sirius and Moony were losing both energy and focus. The wolf strayed closer to the stag and his little friend. Sirius had to expend more energy keeping him thinking me-play-chase. It was nearly dawn when they collapsed. Across the from the others, Sirius lay his muzzle across Moony’s back and watched the rising sun carefully. He let Moony sleep, though the soft twitching of the wolf’s paws proved too much for Sirius to follow.

It came quickly in the morning. It was as if the wolf wanted to draw everything out, but Remus wanted nothing more than to be in his own skin. Sirius was pushed aside by the beginning of the muscle contractions and he moved to stand by the stag.

After it was over—when Moony was gone and all that was left was an exhausted and bewildered Remus—Sirius moved closer. Fingers came up to brush at his muzzle. They dug in his fur. He felt the cool shivers move along Remus’ body as he lay in the pool of shed skin, fur, and less pleasant things. Sirius nudged him and Remus nodded. He got to his knees, crawling on his hands and toes across the room to the pile of blankets there. One was used to clean himself off, though there was still a fair amount of blood on his skin. The other he wrapped about himself before huddling on the torn mattress tossed carelessly to the floor.

Sirius followed him, unable to leave his side. When Remus curled up beneath the blanket, Sirius lay against him. His warmth was noticed. Remus rolled over and snaked an arm out to burrow closer. A nose worked toward his skin at the nape of his neck.

“You didn’t have to.” They were soft words, words that Remus struggled to get out so close to the change. Sirius groaned, as well as a dog could, and waited until daylight.

Heavy footsteps outside signaled the arrival of Madam Pomfrey. Sirius whined, but crawled from beneath Remus’ arm. He found an old desk to hide under and waited until Remus was gone. The stag and rat had already left--he was sure Remus would have questions about them later.

By the time he was able to leave the Shrieking Shack, all he could think of was Remus wrapped around him, his fingers toying softly with his fur.


End file.
